


The jester walks midnight

by wickedesthonktraband



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Other, Pale Porn (Homestuck), i guess?, one sided moirailigence, pale prostitute au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:18:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedesthonktraband/pseuds/wickedesthonktraband
Summary: gamzee and karkat are goin through a rough patch, gamzee turns to working as a a payfor moirail on alternia to keep the two alive.





	The jester walks midnight

Karkat coughs like his lung is about to come out of his throat at any second, doubled over looking more like a hermit crab in its shell then a proper troll. The clothes hang on him loose and fucked in multiple ways, barely passable threshecutioners garb-he’d been sure he would have gotten in but things get in the way don't they? Now he’s here with him.

 

He’s sick.

 

Both were born sick.

 

“Look alive dipshit” he’s on his feet again-wheezing and barely able to stand as he talks- he watches Karkat pull out a rag in light gray colour from his coat  pocket to wipe his face with. The faux carapace glimmers in the night sky like diamonds purer than the ones he fakes, he thinks he could love him forever if things weren’t the way they are. “Remember what i said, ok gamzee? You really can’t afford to keep fucking up otherwise we’re down  shit creek without a god damn paddling device in sight.”

 

When hands are in his hair that he doesn't know he’s miles away on cold distant beaches, waiting for dad to come home and skipping stones against the choppy waters ahead. The work is easy enough, he can be pitiable, he knows that. He can be scary, he can be rough he can even be beautiful and more than that he can be someone else's support for a couple of hours. Holding them keeping them close and pretending he cares. Gamzees not any more distant from knowing how to be a good diamond for an hour to anyone who needs it then he is from knowing exactly how much slime it takes to leave the world for just as long.

He doesn’t know the troll he’s with and he doesn’t need to, he doesn’t want to. Truth be told the other troll doesn’t want to know him anymore than he does them. Gamzees a million miles away on cold shores while hands crawl through his black curls and brush against skin mimicking intimacy as though it were in any way real.  He lets them pretend and degrade him and downtalk and all other bittersweet things, he knows its not real-when he looks he can only see the shadows of their eyes and he knows it’s the same for him too, he hopes it is.

 

He wonders if Karkats going to be ok.

 

Waking up in other recupreacoons isn’t anything different to the makara, the life brings that and he knows it well. It’s nice to sleep in a hive-it’s nice to have somewhere for karkat to sleep too. He follows the routine to the letter as he always does. He gets up, gets dressed again in low cut crop top baring his sign proudly on  following with faded purple shorts soon after, then purple and white sneakers. He checks his makeup in the ablution trap mirror and does whatever he needs.

 

Before they have time to really think about it it’s always back to work. Alternia is cold and it is cruel to it’s people, karkat knows that well and he knows in a world like that you find people willing to pay for kindness, to be loved, to be needed, to feel like they can protect someone or even be protected. “Remember to keep it quiet on the fucking church whimsy alright dude? You’re doing great but you need to remember that not everybody is into clown cult mania. Don't bring it up unless you think you can sell it as part of the pity act.” a curt nod and Karkats looking up towards the moons-both full and shining in all their beauty like sopor dabbed with empress’s tears. “ _Christ_ ” he says it so calm, sighing with shaking breath. “I really wish we could’ve stayed there a little longer, just enough to sink my goddamn teeth into some more grubloaf.”

 

He often tells him that he really could’ve been something, that he could’ve become the best threshecutioner in the entire empire if he had the chance. He tells him it sitting against the wall of an alleyway hoping for a customer, his eyes look off somewhere and he knows he’s just as distant as gamzee when acting as a diamond to strangers off the street.

 

He feels like he carries regrets of the whole world on his shoulders, he can feel his blood pusher ache for him and he really does think he can love him so much he’d die. Even if karkat didn't feel the same gamzee at least had that and that was enough for him. He thinks about someday being a moirail to karkat alone, not having to pretend for people who didn't even see him as another troll. Of holding him and kissing his tears away and letting him know he mattered and meaning it more than he could even begin to imagine.

 

They share a faygo together with the money they have, not able to mooch off another customer tonight. Karkat bitterly mentions how much he hates it only to be met with-”Better than it being all next to motherfucking nothing, invertebrother.” and a sly grin on the purple bloods painted face. Karkats eyes roll, and they both laugh enough to forget the horror that they’re in.

 

When he coughs again, there’s little specks of bright red in his spittle-quickly wiping it all away into that little cloth of his he keeps tucked safe away.

 

He  wonders if karkats gonna be ok.


End file.
